The sorceress's appearance was practically a signal for the monster to retreat. Calm soon returned to the waterfront, and several fishermen who had narrowly escaped death surfaced and swam ashore in a panic.
The continuous clang, clang, clang, clang of the alarm bells still echoed through the town when Victor's gaze met hers.
Triss's warning flashed through his mind. Victor lowered his eyes and turned to leave, but that single instant had been enough. His striking Rinne Sharingan immediately caught the sorceress's attention.
"Dovahkiin Victor of Kaer Trolde, now that you are here, why are you in such a hurry to leave? Is Síle de Tansarville not worth stopping for?"
Since she had addressed him by his full formal title, it would be rude to simply walk away. The witcher stopped, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed.
"I am deeply honored. I never imagined the powerful and beautiful Lady Síle de Tansarville would know who I am."
The sorceress approached with a slow, catlike stride, stopping in front of him to examine him from head to toe. The young witcher stood six feet tall, with a well-proportioned build and firm, powerful muscles.
The second round of mutations had given Victor more than enough confidence. Since she wished to study him, he seized the opportunity to study her in return.
Ignoring her sour expression and unusual hairstyle, Síle was unquestionably an alluring woman. The curves of her chest, marked with circular tattoos, and the shape of her hips beneath her black robes were both pleasing to the eye, but Victor quickly looked away.
She was Philippa Eilhart's friend, after all. Even if she was only half as troublesome as the Jewel of the Court at Tretogor, she would still be an immense headache.
After finishing her inspection, the sorceress nodded.
"You appear to be a capable witcher. Have you come here to kill the Kayran? I will soon be hunting it alongside your senior, Geralt of Rivia. Should you wish to participate, speak with Town Chancellor Louis Merse at the harbor about the reward. Afterward, come find me upstairs at Limping Sam's Inn. I have rented a room there."
"Thank you for the generous invitation. I will consider it. Do you know where this monster came from?"
A faint sneer appeared at the corner of the sorceress's mouth.
"Witchers always prefer to investigate thoroughly before acting. Geralt asked the same question. To learn more, find Cedric, an elf living in Lobinden outside the town. There is no monster in this region he does not know about."
Victor nodded and watched Síle depart.
...
There was no reason to hesitate. He intended to participate in the Kayran hunt, not merely because its materials were rare, but also because it would allow him to work alongside Geralt. Such an opportunity to learn was difficult to come by.
He first returned to the restaurant to settle the bill, exchanged information about their lodgings with Dandelion and Zoltan, and pressed a pouch of crowns into the bard's hands.
The pair were temporarily staying in a small house near Limping Sam's Inn. The dwarf might have been unwilling to accept Victor's gold, but Dandelion and Victor had been sharing their purses since Vizima. Considering how useful the bard's connections had been in Toussaint, that amount of money was insignificant.
The witcher then headed to the town administration office to discuss payment.
The three-story mansion had a notice board out front covered in the kinds of contracts commonly seen around villages, including nekker and endrega contracts. More interestingly, there was also a troll contract and a proclamation of amnesty.
...
"Proclamation of Pardon for Dmitri"
Let it be known that the scoundrel Dmitri has expressed remorse for his terrible deeds and begged forgiveness. Commandant Loredo, renowned for his mercy, has pardoned his crimes and permitted Dmitri to return to society.
All arrest warrants and bounties issued for Dmitri are hereby withdrawn.
Town Chancellor Louis Merse
...
"Troll Contract"
The authorities seek a brave warrior to kill the degenerate troll lurking near the ruined bridge on the Aedirnian border.
Any method may be employed to eliminate the beast, provided it succeeds.
The troll's slayer will receive a generous reward, with all relevant taxes already deducted, as well as the gratitude of Flotsam's terrified citizens.
Town Chancellor Louis Merse
...
The ruined bridge mentioned in the troll contract was probably the same one Victor had passed on his way to Flotsam.
He had not expected Flotsam to be so progressive that it employed a troll to maintain its bridge. Unlike the ice trolls whose tracks he had seen on Undvik without ever encountering them in battle, ordinary rock trolls were not as bloodthirsty as their relatives.
They could communicate through language. They spoke the Common Tongue, although their grammar and vocabulary were usually riddled with mistakes.
There was therefore no question that trolls were intelligent creatures. Under normal circumstances, witchers did not hunt them.
Humans had also discovered and taken full advantage of a peculiar troll habit. Trolls enjoyed building bridges and living beneath them, collecting tolls from passing travelers and using the money to purchase alcohol.
Many towns and villages now deliberately hired trolls to build bridges and settle nearby. Their tremendously powerful arms could move enormous stones with ease. Compared with hiring specialized craftsmen to build and maintain a bridge, the modest tolls collected by a troll were far more economical.
The notice board's description of a "degenerate troll" naturally piqued Victor's interest. He wondered exactly how the creature had degenerated. He already intended to collect materials from the Kayran, and obtaining a few troll materials as well would not hurt.
The other notice that caught his attention, the pardon granted to the scoundrel Dmitri, gave the witcher even more room to imagine the nature of Flotsam's merciful ruler, Loredo, that bald, narrow-eyed fat man.
This was still Temeria. Had Flotsam been administered by Vincent Meis and Thaler in Vizima, a bandit would have remained a bandit. There would have been no attempt at rehabilitation and no reason for a pardon.
...
The interior of the administration office looked strangely familiar. Its furnishings imitated Vizima's style in almost every respect, suggesting that the official in charge had once lived in the capital for an extended period.
Town Chancellor Louis Merse sat behind an oak desk. He was a middle-aged man wearing black robes, a round cap, a ruff, and a pair of pince-nez spectacles.
"Ah, another witcher. Have you come to participate in the Kayran hunt? I regret to inform you that the sorceress and your senior have already divided the entire budget we allocated for the matter. Should you wish to receive any payment, you will have to negotiate with the two of them. I have absolutely nothing left to offer."
The chancellor was telling the truth. Although the man before him looked more presentable than the previous witcher, he also appeared considerably younger.
Louis was still annoyed with himself. While bargaining with that white-haired witcher, why had he suddenly lost his senses and agreed to pay part of the reward in advance?
He vaguely remembered his thoughts becoming clouded. Geralt had suddenly seemed exceptionally trustworthy and likable, and Louis had agreed to hand over the money.
Perhaps it had been some form of sinister magic. He could not allow himself to make the same mistake twice.
Victor noticed that the chancellor repeatedly stroked the signet ring on his finger as he spoke. He guessed it had been made from dimeritium and was intended to help resist mental influence, including the Axii Sign.
The realization brought an amused smile to his face.
"Very well, Mr. Louis. I will discuss payment with them. Next, I would like to know more about the degenerate troll contract. Has it harmed any travelers?"
Since answering would not cost him any additional money, Louis relaxed slightly.
"The troll mentioned in the proclamation once maintained a bridge east of Flotsam. That road used to be an important route leading into Aedirn. You know the one. It is somewhat wider than the others, and that bastard Iorveth appears there less frequently.
"But some time ago, the troll abandoned its duties. It now spends every day beneath the bridge drinking. It has even begun robbing merchants and sending them tumbling into the ravine, causing serious damage to our revenues.
"For the details, you can speak with the village elder in Lobinden, or with that drunken, insufferable elf Cedric. They understand the circumstances better than I do.
"The elder of Lobinden asked me to post this contract, so you will also have to negotiate your reward directly with him. My office bears no responsibility for payment."
Victor nodded.
"What about Dmitri? I am curious about the conditions required for this so-called pardon."
Louis Merse stared closely at Victor's face for some time, paying particular attention to his pupils, before adjusting his spectacles.
"Very well. You do not look like a spy sent by anyone. Who would hire a witcher as a spy, anyway? That bastard Dmitri gathered a considerable sum of money. That is all."
His suspicions confirmed, the witcher smiled.
"Thank you very much."
...
After concluding his conversation with the town chancellor, Victor decided to return to Limping Sam's Inn.
At the same time, he considered how he might explain himself to Roche.
Although Victor regarded Roche as a friend, there were certain reasons why he could not stand beside him in the matter of the kingslayers.
Yet no matter how long he considered it, he could find no way to say it without causing offense. Roche would never understand. Trying to please everyone and avoid offending anyone was simply impossible.
He would probably have to tell the truth and see whether an opportunity arose to make amends in the future.
Having reached a decision, Victor headed toward the Blue Stripes' quarters while hefting his spare steel sword, familiarizing himself with its weight and center of balance.
After losing his usual Blazing Strike at La Valette Castle, Victor had taken a spare steel sword from his herbal satchel.
Although it had also been forged by the elven master swordsmith Hattori, the slight difference in length and the altered balance required him to adjust his technique. Blazing Strike's ability to light fires had also been extremely convenient in daily life.
As he wandered through the streets, he casually witnessed several incidents of humans beating nonhumans.
Whenever humans bullied elves or dwarves, Loredo's men were exceptionally skilled at intervening on the humans' side. As Victor continued walking, he suddenly felt as though he were crossing the mouth of a volcano.
Humans outnumbered elves in Flotsam by roughly four to one, and the overwhelming majority of those humans carried weapons. Should the nonhumans ever rise in revolt, the more likely outcome was that the town's nonhuman population would be completely "purged."
What a miserable, disgusting place.
...
Victor had just reached the building opposite Limping Sam's Inn when a man suddenly darted out from beside him and grabbed his arm.
"Ah, I finally found you. You have been remarkably difficult to locate."
Victor did not recognize him at all. He stared suspiciously at the stranger.
The man wore respectable black velvet clothing, with every button fastened correctly. He looked like a perfectly proper gentleman.
"Sir, I believe you have mistaken me for someone else. I do not know you."
"No, I have made no mistake. Golden hair, blue eyes, unusual pupils, an utterly unremarkable face, and two swords on your back. You are Victor the witcher. I have come under Thaler's orders to deliver a message and give you something."
Thaler, the King's Eyes?
Victor rubbed the bridge of his nose and decided that the next time he had an opportunity, he would become Batman and beat the man up again.
Victor had four obvious sword scars across his face, yet Thaler had deliberately described him as unremarkable. It was clearly a provocation.
Seeing the witcher silently acknowledge his identity, the messenger straightened his chest and recited every word with perfect clarity.
"I shall faithfully repeat his message.
"'Please cooperate with Roche. He may be a bastard, but he is also a patriot. Vultures are already circling Foltest's corpse, but I will find a way. Help us catch that son of a bitch.
"'Postscript: Your actions that day were remarkably subtle. I have a bold suspicion that you may have known something beforehand. But since you are on our side... none of that matters now.'"
After hearing the message, Victor shook his head. As expected, no one who worked in intelligence was a fool.
"What did he send me?"
The black-clad spy produced a long, narrow package.
"Take it. I have finally delivered the thing to you, and I cannot express how relieved I am.
"Damn it, I am not suited to being a spy. All these secrets leave me nervous and plagued by bad luck. Good luck to you. I have my own business to attend to."
The moment Victor weighed the package in his hand, he knew it contained a steel sword.
Thaler had probably remembered that Victor had lost Blazing Strike and sent him a replacement as a favor. Naturally, a gift from the head of Temerian intelligence would not be anything cheap. It was bound to be an excellent weapon.
The meaning of the message was also clear.
On the day of Foltest's assassination, Victor had chosen to rush toward the king in an attempt to join him. That alone made it obvious that he had not been working with the assassin.
Therefore, regardless of how Victor might have learned certain information beforehand, Thaler had no intention of investigating further.
He was a clear-headed man, but unfortunately also one with a terrible reputation. Despite being an intelligence chief, his influence among the nobility was almost nonexistent.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached from the distance, calm and steady.
Victor had heard those footsteps almost every day at Kaer Morhen whenever their owner came to ask him for medicine.
He turned and waited.
As expected, the approaching man was Geralt of Rivia.
The White Wolf had originally come to exchange intelligence with Roche, but encountering Victor changed his priorities. He happily gestured for the younger witcher to follow him aside so they could speak privately.
"Vic... I need to thank you. I truly mean it. Thank you."
Victor was momentarily confused. He had no idea what Geralt wished to thank him for.
Seeing the bewildered expression on the blond witcher's face, the white-haired witcher smiled broadly.
"It is about Triss. I truly have to thank you. Yesterday, we spent a long time talking in the Kayran's former lair and cleared up many misunderstandings.
"She said your advice gave her the courage to discuss many things openly with me. Only then did I realize how badly I had misunderstood her in several matters."
Victor blinked.
"I am glad things are going well between you. Speaking of the Kayran, there is something I wanted to discuss with you.
"The monster attacked the harbor earlier. I was there and encountered the sorceress Síle de Tansarville. She said she would be working with you and invited me to join the hunt.
"I find the idea interesting. On the one hand, I want some materials from the Kayran. On the other, I believe this would be an excellent opportunity to learn. Would you be willing to let me participate?"
Geralt spread his hands and smiled.
"Without question. I would be happy to share everything I know with you. Triss is currently brewing a Mongoose potion to counteract the monster's venom. She expects it to be ready tomorrow.
"When it is finished, we can visit Síle together. With you participating, I will feel much more confident."
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